A couple of months ago, as reports mounted of shootings, militia rivalries and robberies in Libya, a Libyan friend summed up for me his estimation of the situation: law and order was weak but the country was secure. Its breakup was unlikely and so was a coup.

The issue... is whether a sectarian understanding of religion will govern the letter of the law- Ranier Fsadni

He may have had in mind an event – to my knowledge unreported in the international press but widely taken to be true in Libya – that certain politicians from the east had invited the western town of Bani Walid (and Muammar Gaddafi’s hometown of Sirte, according to one version) to join a breakaway autonomous state. The offer was flatly refused.

The story’s significance has to do with the identity of the protagonists.

Bani Walid is the major settlement of the Warfalla tribe, possibly Libya’s largest tribe and spread in many areas of the west and east. Although its actual size is possibly not much more than a third of the fabled one million figure repeated in the press, its traditional lands would provide an extensive buffer-zone between the east proper and Tripolitania.

However, the Warfalla provided many recruits to Col Gaddafi’s security apparatus. And while last year many Warfalla participated in the defence of Benghazi, Bani Walid itself did not join the uprising. In the dying days of the old regime it hosted Seif al-Islam Gaddafi and several hundred loyalist and mercenary troops. It was the site of a furious battle with rebel fighters. Today, it has at best an ambivalent relationship with the National Transitional Council; so do many other places with unimpeachable rebel credentials but in Bani Walid the brigade that claimed legitimacy from its participation in an uprising on May 28, 2011 was expelled (by a brigade led by a leader of the 1993 attempted coup).

So here is the two-pronged significance I read into the story. The eastern politicians were prepared to discount the Warfalla’s connections to the old regime. On its part, Bani Walid, despite all the outstanding issues it has with the NTC, remained committed to a unified Libya.

The two themes – a readiness to discount the past and to contain grievances – may have influenced my friend’s estimate that the country was secure. He may also have reckoned, as I do, that the lack of centralised forces of order has a double-edged effect: it undermines the country’s stability but the lack of a central administrative nerve-centre makes a coup more difficult to execute.

There is, of course, no guarantee that grievances will continue to be contained and plenty of evidence of difficulties in discounting the past. However, I am struck by the faith Libyans are showing, in word and deed, in their country’s capacity to pull through. It was demonstrated again during last weekend’s national elections.

There were 15 candidates for every seat, the large majority running as independents, many of them – to go by the TV adverts and discussions – University graduates. Even in those places where the poll ran into problems, there was a silver lining.

In Bani Walid, voter turnout was rather lower than the national average of 60 per cent. But this seems to have been mainly a protest against the allocation of only two seats. In itself, it is a sign of a willingness to engage in the process.

Voting was disrupted at certain polling stations in the east but voters were quickly directed to alternatives. The violent attacks that did occur were themselves a sign that a call for a boycott would not have been sufficiently heeded.

The indication at the time of writing is that the National Forces Alliance led by Mahmoud Jibril, the former NTC Prime Minister, will be winning the plurality of seats in the new assembly. In some cases, it has far outstripped the second-placed political party.

It is too early to interpret the vote. It appears the Islamists might still have a majority if they secure the support of independents. Whether they will is difficult to say because of the nature of Islamism and of Libya.

Islamism thrives in urban and non-traditional contexts, particularly where social safety nets are weak. Libya is still in many ways a traditional society, with strong support networks, and where religious practice is part of what’s taken for granted in everyday life. Independent candidates may simultaneously have many ideas in common with Islamists and yet resent them for their presumption: “Who are they to tell me they are better Muslims than I am?” is a question I have often heard. Mr Jibril repeatedly asked it, as though on behalf of all Libyans, during the campaign

For the same reason it’s a mistake to characterise Mr Jibril’s umbrella organisation as “liberal”, a label he’s rejected with annoyance. In a country where virtually the entire citizenry is Sunni Muslim, where invoking God’s name is part of ordinary etiquette, fasting is a sign of adulthood and regular prayer of serious-mindedness, the idea of excluding religion from public life comes across as bizarre.

The issue rather is whether a sectarian understanding of religion will govern the letter of the law. Mr Jibril proposes something else: that one source of law should be the general Islamic principles of conviviality rather than any detailed prescription.

At this early stage, it seems that this message, coupled with his demonstrated non-ideological inclusivity, resonated most with Libyans. “We know him,” one man told me. “We don’t know what the others represent.”

ranierfsadni@europe.com